Bonaparte stood so that he could see over her shoulder what she wrote. Madame Gohier looked fixedly at him, and he drew back with a bow. She wrote the note, folded it, and looked about her for the sealing-wax; but, whether by accident or intention, there was none. Sealing the note with a wafer, she rang the bell. A servant came.
“Give this note to Comtois,” said Madame Gohier, “and bid him take it to the Luxembourg at once.”
Bonaparte followed the servant, or rather the letter, with his eyes until the door closed. Then, turning to Madame Gohier, he said: “I regret that I am unable to breakfast with you. But if the President has business to attend to, so have I. You must breakfast with my wife. Good appetite to you both.”
And he went out. At the door he met Roland.
“Here is the commission, general,” said the young man, “and a pen.”
Bonaparte took the pen, and using the back of his aide-de-camp’s hat, he signed the commission. Roland gave him the pistols.
“Did you look; to them?” asked Bonaparte.
Roland smiled. “Don’t be uneasy,” said he; “I’ll answer for them.”
Bonaparte slipped the pistols in his belt, murmuring as he did so: “I wish I knew what she wrote her husband.”
“I can tell you, word for word, what she wrote, general,” said a voice close by.